More of What You've Never Given Me
by Legginglas
Summary: Oneshot, second person, SLASH. Dean wants something from Sam, and it isn't a hug...


**Title:** More of What You've Never Given Me  
**Rating:** Hard R  
**Pairing:** Dean/Sam  
**Warnings:** This is slash-cest chock full; Wincest is the only way TO go in this fandom, thankyou. Swearing, angst, and sex, also apply.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. If I DID, oh they would be doing a lot more in that '67 Chevy Impala than listening to Metallica.  
**Author's Note: **I wrote this awhile ago, but I'm not exactly sure WHEN; I _think_ it was right after "Phantom Traveler". I was the only one who proof-read this, so just tell me if something is wrong, or if something doesn't flow exactly right. I need to know how to write to my utmost ability, so hit me with the constructive criticism.  
**Feedback:** Feedback whore, here.  
**Summary:**Oneshot, second person.Dean wants something from Sam, and it isn't a hug...

Does he even know what he does to you? Of course he doesn't. He thinks you're selfish and full of shit. He resents you, but all you do is make it worse. Does he understand the way you lust? No, he thinks you only lust after anything female, but you only fuck the girls to feed the insatiable hunger you have for Sam. _The hunger I shouldn't even be fucking having,_ you think. He doesn't know you think about him when you're asleep. The sleep you tell him is uninterrupted with fear, even though you wake up with a cold sweat every night just to check to see if he's ok; just to make sure Sam's still there. Now that he is back you don't care that he's out of practice with the hunting, you don't care that he's only here to find out what killed Jessica and your mother, to find your father; you only care that he's in this car and-

"Do you think dad ever thought that I was as good as you?"

Sam brings you back into the world of angst. Away from the certainty of your thoughts away from the certainty of Metallica... Because God knows you know **all** of the lyrics.

"No." You snark. He looks at you hurt and then covers it up by countering with, "Bite me."

"I'd love to. Do you have a preference? Arm? Leg?... Ass?"

He shakes his head and ignores you. He was still upset and you could hear it in the way his voice cracked every time he mentioned your father or Jessica. Sam wanted vengeance big time and you knew that it was probably going to get you both in trouble. After all **he** was the one saving your ass. You watched him inadvertently through his reflection on the window shield, noticing the way he avoided you at all costs, resisting tears that you knew he bottled up because you were in the car with him. He smiled sadly out of the window, at the crisp air that smelt of rain- the air that clung to you like death.

---

After a few hours of silence he met your glance and mumbled something you couldn't quite catch. You almost asked him to repeat himself, but you knew he'd shut you off. _Why wouldn't he? I do it to him._ So you remained silent, you remained closed. When he drifted off to sleep you were almost thankful because now you could go back to your certainty... But you didn't. You'd tear your eyes away from the rode, devouring Sam's every attribute that you probably shouldn't have noticed in the first place. You didn't care that what you wanted, what you _needed_, was unhealthy and abnormal. _Goddamn it, we're already as abnormal as you can get._

His groans drifted from his lips and onto the stilled air. You recognized them as the ones you'd hear whenever he did sleep; they were his nightmares. You wanted to comfort him like you did when you were younger, like **he** did on the plane.. But you withheld for the time being. And fuck it was hard.

You couldn't stop thinking that you wanted more of what he's never given you. You pulled over in the middle of nowhere to cool down, to take a piss, and to give your eyes a rest... From Sam. You got out of the car when you noticed your brother was saying something.

"Don't take him. You don't understand! My brother needs me to save him. I need him to save-"

You gazed at his flickering eyelids and noted that his eyes portrayed sadness even in sleep. Your eyes drifted down to his chest and you noticed the way his chest followed no order with his labored breathing. You wished you could have brought your hand over that chest. Fuck you do. More than any other chest with boobs. _Although last time I remember how much I enjoyed them with that hooker_ "Heh." You allowed yourself to smile for a moment and then it started to pour and you glowered up at the sky, gesturing your middle fingers. You forgot about taking a piss and ran back into the car.

Does he think you don't care? You just don't know how to tell Sam that you **do** care. You're very careful around him. You don't want to end up sounding like a fucking girl to him. So you try to deny your feelings. You know you have denied them too long but you can't help but think he'd disbelieve you and write it away as one of your sarcastic remarks. You won't ever let him be 'touchy feely' with you because you know he won't ever give you more of what you want. Goddamn it, that you knew all too well. You noticed that he was sweating even though the car was cool. As it trickled down his neck and glistened in the gloomy sunlight there was left, you realized your hands had wandered on their own. Your fingers brushed against the bottom of his shirt, so you slipped your hands up without a thought, and then you looked apprehensively up at your brother: you had to make sure he was still asleep before you ventured further. You enjoyed the feel of his heat upon your coldness. His hand fell on yours and you jumped. You knew he was not awake, yet you gathered he was not fully asleep either; bordering that place of half-consciousness. His hand guided yours over his hips, and up his stomach. You smiled bitterly because this was the only time Sam would allow you to get this physically close to him. You knew it was the only time **you** could ever get physically _and_ emotionally close to Sam. You wondered why you were both like a broken puzzle that was missing some pieces.

When you got to his chest, you could feel the scars that were left there by the Woman in White. You were surprised you had forgotten about that; forgotten about your first hunt together since Sam had left for college. You slid over to his side of the car and gently allowed your tongue to glide over his neck. You tasted the salty tang of his sweat and noted that it was the only part of him that has ever been inside of you. And fuck it hurt to know that you were never let in by him the way this felt. You wondered if all of what you were feeling and all of what you've felt was a product of not having a mother for the past 20 years out of your 26. You know he's your little brother, but you don't care. You've wanted this, wanted _him_, for too long. You stopped your mouth, your lips, and your tongue from exploring his skin and you felt that it was wrong to never have done this before.

"Dean..." Sam paused, making sure that he wasn't still dreaming. His eyes widened. "Dean!"

"Yes?" You smiled like you had done nothing. Out of reflexivity he pushed you away.

"What in fucking hell were you doing!"

"I was only experimenting, Sam. Can you ever forgive me?" You mocked his anger.

"Oh, cut the shit, Dean! Can't you just for once say what the hell you're _actually_ feeling? It's really not that hard once you do it."

"OK. Wanna know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking why the fuck isn't it ok to do _this_!"

You had dropped your wall you usually had up around him, the wall to keep your insecurities and true emotions behind. You let your guard down, which you know would probably hurt you both in the long run.

"Have you forgotten that we're **brothers**!"

"No."

Sam scoffs at you and falls silent for a moment.

"Have you forgotten that we're _brothers_?"

"No. I. Have. Not. Forgotten. That. You. Are. My. Brother."

You flashed him one of your cheeky smiles and arched your eyebrows in hopes that maybe he'd just brush the whole thing off as an oddity that often occurred when you were around. _Sam's not like that. Our whole family's not like that. For fuck's sake we've been chasing the same thing for 20 years!_ Suddenly, out of nowhere, you saw him leaning towards you. He whispered something in your ear, "I've forgotten... How you could be such a fucking ass."

"Did I just hear my **brother** use the term, 'Ass fucking'?" It was like you couldn't stop yourself; you just added oxygen to the fire.

"Why are you wet?" Sam changed the subject.

You raised your eyebrows and almost choked, "Excuse me!" You looked down and you seemed to have forgotten going outside. "Oh... _That_. I was-"

You didn't even have time to close your eyes. You really didn't even have time to respond. He had _kissed_ you. After a couple of moments he broke away.

"You're such a jerk."

Your mouth was agape. "Dude, you're the one who kissed me."

He didn't smile. He just returned his gaze back out the window. Why does he never give you more of what you want? You were about to get indignant, but then he spoke,

"I was dreaming about you."

You wanted to say something derogatory, because that's what you do... _Because I'm fucked up_, you thought. But you held out, and waited for Sam to finish.

"The dream was about that... That _thing_." -he paused with bitterness in his voice and you knew what he was referring to; you knew he was referring to the demon that killed your mother and Jessica.- "You were being an idiot and you went after it and got caught. I had to save your fucking ass again, but this time I just wasn't good enough. Dad wasn't there, you were... **Are** all I have. So I tried to save you, Dean. I tried to fucking save your ass. And do you know what happened? It burnt you like you were a fucking piece of paper; like you were _nothing_. And the funny thing is, you're _everything_ I have now."

Sam stared fiercely at you, and you knew he was trying not to cry. You didn't even know how to respond. He spoke once more,

"And the next thing I know, in my dream, you were alive again and I remember feeling so fucking belligerent towards you. And we just sort of took our anger out on each other, by doing… _things_" -he paused, clearly uncomfortable– "…Things of which you were actually performing while I was asleep. Tell me, did you give me a blowjob, too?"

"Why? Were you _dreaming_ that I sucked on your dick?"

He blushed, and you couldn't tell if it was out of anger or if it was out of embarrassment. You played games with Sam's emotions; you wanted to see what he'd react to and what he wouldn't. Not intentionally, but that was just what your brain tended to do when you felt vulnerable. You knitted your brow and tried to say something,

"Because I will suck you off if, you know, you want me to."

Dammit.

You managed to do it again.

None of that mattered, though, when he leaned over again and kissed you. You grabbed the back of his head and kissed him harder. You both shoved your tongues into each other's mouths, and enjoyed the feel of it for the first time. You liked the way Sam was rough with you. _I'm so going to hell for this._ You smirked into his mouth when he moaned loudly, mumbling something about fucking you. He grabbed for your wet shirt and threw it off, in turn making you even colder. But you knew that the cold wouldn't last for very long because soon you both would be creating friction. Even though it might be wrong to even think that, that's all you've been thinking about lately. You have always wanted to touch Sam the way he was touching you right then and there. You always wanted to get close to him this way.

_Fuck!_ Sam slid into you... And it felt so good, yet almost unbearably painful. You're usually the one to be in control and in charge, but this time it was like you were as helpless as you were up in that plane. So there you were, having sex with your younger brother, in the front seat of your 1967 Chevy Impala. He thrust faster and harder each time and all you could think of saying was, "Uhhh! God, Sammy!" and other vacuous things. Sam would softly bite the back of your neck every so often, and the collaboration of that, Sam fucking you, and you jerking yourself off, was just about the most memorable experience you had ever had. You came a minute before he did, exhilarated and exhausted. He pulled out and you flipped over so you were laying on your back. He fell on top of you.

"You know, Dean, you're what one would call a slut."

You looked at him taken aback. "Oh, you are so cleaning this up." And then added, "besides, I haven't had sex for over a month."

And then he smiled a real smile, that you haven't seen him express since... You couldn't remember the last time he had actually smiled, and that's all you had wanted. What was before 'never given to you', was now given. All you could do was smile back.


End file.
